Bee Loved

Bee Loved: An Unexpected Rescue Chronicled with Affection

In two consecutive summers, our deck spontaneously became a refuge for carpenter bees in distress. Three bees, each in need of help at different times, stumbled on our deck. While I was delighted that these carpenter bees presented themselves to us, their arrival was peculiar, and their reason to take refuge reveals a situation that is a cause for concern—or even for alarm.

The first carpenter bee that appeared seemed disoriented with labored movements and made no attempts to fly away. At first glance, I thought she was a bumblebee, so I nicknamed her Bumbee. I gave her sugar water, and after a few hours, I moved her to a vented container with wildflowers for an evening indoors. The next morning, Bumbee was buzzing around with lots of vigor, so I placed her in the yard, and she successfully took flight! All she needed was a snack and some quiet time. The following summer, another carpenter bee, affectionately called Bumbee II, plopped on our patio and quickly rebounded with a few sips of sugar water.

Then, on September 1, 2024, we were graced by a third carpenter bee, named Bumbee III, of course. This little bee was incredibly special in many ways. Straightaway, I could tell something was amiss, as his proboscis (straw-like tongue) was protruding and failing to retract inward as it should. If a living bee has a stuck proboscis, it is most likely caused by pesticide or herbicide poisoning where bees are foraging, and unfortunately recovery is unlikely.  

It was upsetting to see this cute, chunky bee with a fatal symptom, and it was alarming to discover that nearby properties were using toxic chemicals in bee-foraging areas. Typically, carpenter bees forage within one mile from their habitat. (Our entire property has been chemical-free since ownership; no pesticides, herbicides, or suchlike for over a decade. The previous owners also refrained from using chemicals.) 

Immediately, I prepared Bumbee III a serving of sugar water as he rested in my hand. While his proboscis wasn’t retracting, it appeared that he was, in some manner, drinking the sugar water.  He seemed to enjoy it, as his antennae were briskly scanning and sweeping. I gathered a bunch of blooms and placed them in a large glass bowl to serve as a temporary home for my little visitor. Bumbee III was able to flutter his wings; however, he wasn’t able to take flight. The next day, he was climbing and weaving through the floral bough.

Over the coming days, I served him droplets of sugar water and refreshed his bowl with new blossoms and pieces of melon from which he easily extracted the juice. At first, I presented the sugar water in a tiny scoop as Bumbee III sat on his flowers. After a few days, he seemed to prefer to rest in my hand while I gave him tiny droplets of sugar water via pipette. Whenever I approached the bowl, he scrambled in relentless pursuit of my hand. As soon as I placed my hand in his bowl, he jumped right on! Often, he ran straight up my arm in a spirited race to simply perch on my shoulder. Since Bumbee III was unable to fly, I walked him around the garden each day and placed him on top of flowers for nectar and pollen. It was fascinating to watch him use his mandibles (jaws) to find nectar. The most glorious sight was the high-contrast colors of yellow powdery pollen sticking to his black woolly legs. Within seconds of touching down on a dandelion, it looked like he donned golden socks on all six legs.

As the weeks progressed, I upgraded Bumbee III’s space from a large glass bowl to a clear shallow tote. This expanded space allowed for more room to roam, long-stemmed flowers, and a piece of wood with a tunnel in which he could burrow, mimicking a carpenter bee’s natural habitat.[1] I carried his tote wherever best for him—in the sun or garden; however, he mostly wanted to sit in my hand. I continued to help him do “bee things,” such as pollinate the plants in my garden. Like all bees, Bumbee III did this by brushing off the pollen on his legs from the flowers’ male anthers onto the female stigmas. (A fortuitous fertilization process!)

Aside from Bumbee III’s garden feasts and pollination, he often paused on the blooms to purely bask in the sun. Tending to this lovely carpenter bee was an absolute pleasure and an honor each day. I looked forward to finding new ways to support his longevity and possible recovery. I was prepared to care for him as long as needed.

I quickly learned Bumbee III’s quirks, preferences, and moods. For example, he had a distinctive march. He was a very delicate carpenter bee, yet his gait appeared rather authoritative, as if he were reporting to a time-sensitive, super-secret mission. Also, Bumbee III was an exceptionally clean creature. He meticulously groomed his shiny black abdomen, fuzzy thorax, furry legs, and smooth antennae after visiting flowers and upon finishing meals.

Indeed, Bumbee III had preferences. When presented with different types of melon, he chose watermelon over other melon varieties. He also preferred flat-topped and open-faced blossoms such as floss flowers, daisies, sunflowers, dandelions, and windflowers. This was understandable, from a practical standpoint, as those flower types provided easy access to pollen and nectar. In fact, when offered pompon or ball dahlias—spherical blooms with tightly arranged funnel-shaped petals—Bumbee III showed little interest in feeding; rather, he just used them to perch. I suspect dahlia’s distinct design made it difficult for him to find the flower’s feast. He was a discerning little fellow!

Within our first month together, I had the opportunity to closely observe and learn from this beautiful, adorable bee. Bumbee III taught me a great deal about his species with plenty of laughs, worries, and tears along the way. He seemed to display different reactions through head and antennae positions. When his antennae were in an upright (V-shaped) position, they seemed to indicate excitement and interest. This was the posture I often observed while he was in the garden. When his antennae were in a downward position, they seemed to denote contentment and relaxation, as this was their orientation when he rested or slept. Interestingly, when his antennae were in a linear position, it seemed to demonstrate concern, as I observed this antennae posture when I placed my camera too close to him. Also, Bumbee III frequently tilted his head, which I interpreted as curiosity or moments of contemplation. When he rested or slept, he often placed his foreleg underneath his head, as if using his leg as a bolster.

Bumbee III continually surprised me with specific behaviors and modes of communicating his needs. For example, he preferred warmer temperatures, between 70 and 80 degrees, and moderate sunlight. If the sunlight was too strong, he took cover under his floral bouquet, signaling to me that it was time for shade and cooler ground. Also, it was clear that he recognized me (whether by scent, sight, or sound), as he reacted with wagging antennae each time I came near. I noticed, too, that he had bouts of dynamic energy, from robust wiggles to deep sleep sessions.

One of the funniest habits I witnessed was Bumbee III relieving himself. I’ve spotted other bees taking “cleansing flights” (bathroom breaks while flying), but since Bumbee III wasn’t able to take a cleansing flight, he had his own unique process—often occurring while I held him. He would walk backward several paces, excrete his waste, and then retreat. Over the many hours he spent in my hands, I observed this tactic consistently. Perhaps walking backward and then away from his excretion was an attempt to keep his environment—my hand—clean. Such a clever, adaptable, and intriguing soul!

As autumn’s cold and damp weather crept in, our time outside began to wane. To ensure Bumbee III’s sunlight exposure, I sat with him next to windows so that he could feel the sun’s warmth radiating through the glass. He sat in my hand, on my arm, or next to me in his tote full of blooms. Each evening, he sat on my hand while I was reading, writing, or watching a bit of TV. He slept in his tote, either atop a flower or tucked in his wooden tunnel.

Once October arrived, flowers in my garden were scarce, and I began to worry about Bumbee III’s diet. Thankfully, a few mighty and glorious dandelions were still standing their ground. Possibly by default, they became Bumbee III’s favorite. Fortunately, kind neighbors and a local, regenerative organic farm provided a bounty of early fall flowers for him to enjoy. Still, I knew their gardens would, too, become dormant as our Northeastern frost was looming. While cut flowers sold at floral shops are plentiful and available year-round, they are treated with preservatives, pesticides, fungicides, biocides, and/or dyes.[2] Due to this toxicity, floral shop bouquets were not an option.

Luckily, my sister suggested feeding Bumbee III a pollen substitute. Although commercial pollen substitutes are formulated for honeybees and given to them by beekeepers when natural pollen is scarce, it was a suitable and safe option for Bumbee III’s survival. Throughout the month, I provided him with sugar water, pollen substitute, and pieces of watermelon. Also, I had two indoor plants—chamomile and basil—that still had a few blooms for his natural nutrition. In preparation for the winter, I planted seeds in indoor pots with hopes of growing new flowers for his food source. I wanted him to have the best life possible.

Toward the end of October, Bumbee III’s energy level and appetite began to decrease. He took longer naps, seemed less interested in exploring his tote, and ate fewer meals. Despite his reduced energy, he still reached out for me and preferred to nestle in my cupped hand. Apiarists on bee forums said to expect less activity with changing seasons, and I hoped this was the reason for his lethargy. However, I knew he was battling an ailment which would likely abbreviate his time. I spent many late nights watching and holding Bumbee III. He was loved, and his life mattered.

In the evening of October 26, he was robustly wriggling in my hand. At first, I was overjoyed to see his returned spirit, but then I realized that his movements were spasmodic. His legs seemed unsteady as he struggled to stay upright. I cupped my hand closer to keep him from flopping on his wings. This seemed to relax him a bit, and he was able to get some rest. The next morning, he wasn’t interested in eating and seemed even more lethargic than before. I kept Bumbee III cupped in my hand, with a flower blossom underneath him. He sat in my hand for the entire day, with his head resting on my bent finger. I watched him closely and appreciated each time he stretched a leg, adjusted a wing, or waved an antenna. My dear readers, I felt his last movement—a leg stretch—and then, he was gone.

Caring for Bumbee III was an honor. The experience was both unique and profound, highlighted by his acceptance of my care and his astonishing ability to adapt. Bumbee III taught me all about his special species while he fought through whatever poisoned him. He gave me a reason to pause in this hurried world and to be still in my garden. For eight weeks, we enjoyed the abundant serene sights, scents, and sounds. I sincerely cherished every moment.

Beloved Bumbee III was a strong, precious, beautiful bee.

Afterword

I am grateful for public forums and blogs hosted by apiarists, as they provided applicable information for Bumbee III’s care. In return, I chronicled the eight weeks with Bumbee III as best I could through pictures and videos to serve as a helpful reference for others.[3] Conversely, the prominent websites I discovered upon searching keywords such as “carpenter bees: care and health” generated content on how to trap and kill carpenter bees. It was gravely disturbing to find numerous misleading websites—often promoted by companies that produce and sell toxic chemicals—portraying carpenter bees as destructive to wooden structures.

It is important to note that carpenter bees are not wood-eating insects. While they burrow in wood, the female-carved nesting tunnels are quite small and discreet—approximately ½ inch wide and 4 inches long. Hardly destructive![4] A tiny nesting tunnel is such a meager offering for a remarkable pollinator that helps to ensure our food supply. What’s more, carpenter bees are resourceful, as a female will often reuse an established tunnel for her offspring.

Carpenter bees are extraordinary creatures and essential pollinators. They foster a healthy ecosystem, contribute to plant reproduction, and work tirelessly to secure their species. They have specific roles for their survival: The females are nest builders, and the males are nest protectors. The females labor intensively to secure a home and to collect food for their offspring, whereas the males carry out security duties by patrolling their surroundings. (Males can be easily distinguished as they have a white/cream-colored facial patch, compared to females, whose faces are solid black.)

Also, carpenter bees are not aggressive; rather, they can be defensive toward perceived threats—and rightfully so, as they need to protect their offspring. Female carpenter bees are generally docile and will only use their stingers in defense if they are provoked or when their nests are threatened. Since male carpenter bees do not have stingers, they pose no harm; therefore, they are more likely to put on a show of protective flying maneuvers—diving and darting—near nest intruders. Carpenter bees are highly observant and may hover closely over their environment for investigative purposes. Perhaps their up-close encounters are to confirm recognition of a welcoming person or place. Many carpenter bees have hovered intently within inches of my face, then quickly zipped away. I’ve smiled, said “Oh, hello,” and delighted in their curious kiting.

My experience with Bumbee III was completely unexpected. I am not an apiarist, nor an entomologist, and I do not recommend touching any healthy bees unless you are trained. Bumbee III chose to rest in my hand and on my arm; I did not prompt him to do so. While I passionately believe we must care for all sentient beings in need, I do not encourage the captivity of healthy wildlife. Should you encounter a bee and feel uncomfortable, refrain from swatting or flailing your arms, as this may seem threating to the bee. Remain calm and remove yourself from the environment. No matter how captivating bees may be, safety comes first, especially for those who are allergic to bee stings. If so, you might have to “mind your beeswax.” For more information on native bees, visit The Bee Conservancy and contact a local or state apiarist association.

Since my experience with Bumbee III…

My care for carpenter bees has continued. The experience with Bumbee III taught me how to care for his species, and I intend to use this knowledge to give similar care to other carpenter bees in distress. There have been a few other adorable ones I found who rebounded quickly and some that needed long-term respite. I came across two petite males with wing deformities, named Shorty and Wingless Larry, and perched atop my deck railing was one beautiful female without wings, called Momma. They were able to eat independently (normal proboscises); however, they weren’t able to fly. Shorty lived for a few weeks, while Wingless Larry lived for a few months. Momma was a miracle, living nearly nine months! Presently, I am caring for a female, Esme, who has a tattered wing and is able to buzz only a few inches upward in a spiral manner. I am not sure if Esme will ever take a successful flight; so as long as she needs it, she will—like those before her—have a safe place to rest, ample nourishment, and feel the sun’s warmth each day.

Also, I’ve shared Bumbee III’s story online and on social media with the hopes that other folks will consider the importance of all pollinators and abstain from pesticide and herbicide use. We must be mindful of the innocent animals—sentient beings with their own unique personalities and contributions to the world—who rely on us to be responsible sharers of the same planet.

Perhaps we can look to a future where our society supports flora and fauna that sustain life, not the corporations selling deadly products to kill dandelions, wildflowers, and pollinators for the sake of a sterile and useless monoculture lawn.[5]

Endnotes

[1] We bored a tunnel in a piece of untreated wood for Bumbee III to rest in the most natural environment we could offer. Note: Only female carpenter bees bore tunnels for nesting. Males visit, patrol, and protect nests inside the tunnels.

[2] It’s vexing to know that the global floral industry—valued at $32 billion—uses many toxic chemicals, contributes to a high carbon footprint, causes land degradation, and increases waste pollution. Sadly, the pesticides and herbicides used by floral shops are also available to the public. Such harmful chemicals most likely caused Bumbee III’s condition.

[3] No flash photography/videography was used. While a camera’s flash may not permanently harm insects, it can startle or disorient them. 

[4] Our yard has been a home for many carpenter bees for over a decade. It’s an honor to be chosen by them, and it’s joyful to watch them buzz along. Their tunnels are inconspicuous—underneath or behind patio surfaces. Upon surveying the wood, it has remained stable with uncompromised aesthetics. Should you have excessive wood damage and suspect carpenter bees, before attempting remediation, consider factors that cause severe wood damage such as wet/dry rot from moisture or a fungus, degradation from aging, carpenter ants, rodents, woodpeckers, and wood-eating insects like beetles or termites (the most common causes of wood destruction).

[5] Monoculture lawns consist of one type of uniform turfgrass. They are biological deserts. They are inhospitable, as they contribute nothing to biodiversity—void of pollen, nectar, and shelter. Monoculture lawns are often non-native and require high amounts of water, fertilizer, and chemicals to maintain aesthetics. There are many sustainable alternatives for lawns, such as growing clover (nitrogen-rich) and creeping thyme (drought-resistant). Both produce flowers that provide food for pollinators. Also, growing a “no-mow” wildflower garden provides biodiversity and an eco-friendly landscape.